


Tuesdays

by InsominiacArrest



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, First Time, Humor, M/M, Smut, Xeno, breakup stuff I guess, incest for laughs, meteor adventures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-02-18 04:04:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2334620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsominiacArrest/pseuds/InsominiacArrest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Passing time on the Meteor, Dave see's something disturbing, bothers Karkat, weird sexual tension abounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How to be a Bro

Dave had broken up with Terezi exactly two months ago to the day. Murderous clown side ho's didn’t exactly strengthen the relationship. It is with that in mind that Dave walked in on Rose and Kanaya. A sloppy drunk Rose on top, both of them _missing tops_ , and each others tongues cohabitating in eachothers mouths like they just got married, and it’s move in day on their honeymoon.

What the ultimate fuck?? He did not need to see his ectosister pawing at her alien girlfriend. It made him think of his own alien ex-girlfriend. Also, some very family unfriendly thoughts about his sister, Folger's coffee level thoughts that he did not want to get into.

And in the common room?? Oh _hell no_.

He absconded like his life depended on it. His cape probably fucking flapping in the breeze like some majestic superman escaping Lex Luthers interspecies lesbian makeouts with incestual undertones. Or something.

He didn’t return to his room, mostly because there was all of dick to do in there, and he wasn’t exactly feeling it right now. Luckily the meteor was still large as balls and there was somehow still more rooms, and chests, and people hiding things in chests. After collecting at least three bottles of Faygo and a muscle beast nude (what the fuck is wrong with aliens?) he found his way to their, like fifth room considered a common room. It was one of the stupid hard to get to ones that took around three flights of stairs and a puzzle to reach. Which is specifically why he was surprised to find Karkat in there reading on the couch.

“ ‘sup”

Karkat glanced up at him, “I’m reading” he said pointedly.

“Too bad. You could have done that in your room,” Dave said sliding onto the couch next to him, because, okay, he was kind of feeling like being an asshole right now.

Karkat’s eyes bulged (because he had no chill) and he opened his mouth to launch into what looked was going to be one of the longest, angriest rants in all of paradox space. Dave grinned in anticipation.

But, no. He took a deep put upon breath, three times through the nose, and physically forced his shoulders to relax. He’d been practicing.

“Come on, it’s xeno cultural exchange day.” Dave said, “read one of your trashy alien novels to me or like, horrible alien history.” He didn't exactly expect Karkat to do this, but annoying him was a new pastime on the meteor joy ride of wonders. Which was ironic because at the beginning of the voyage to meet their teen parents in the final smackdown boss level Karkat had been the one bothering Dave. All shipping charts and Terezi obsessing.That was over on multiple levels.

And okay, it was kind of cool to be around someone who a)wasn't drunk b)making out with his sister, c)a murderous clown and d)had some shared experience, ie a thing Terezi that was, you know, not happening. Also, irony.

The mayor was obviously the first choice, but this was good too.

“No,” he said with disdain, “we do that on Wednesdays, we agreed to go by your fucked up alien days of the week when we worked out “storytime with Karkat,” and we’re fucking staying with your, did I mention your?, fucking days of the week schedule,” he somehow said of all of that in one breath, Dave is impressed.

And, yeah, as the Knight of Time or whatever Dave was acutely aware it was 4:47 PM on a Tuesday. But who cares. He almost got a boner for his sister, nobody cares.

“So okay, let’s start a new thing, a “story time with Dave.” Dave reached over and took Karkat's book from him, skimming the nonsense letters, “and so the musclebound grey alien dude inserts his throbbing mound triumphantly into the horned vixen’s cranny, and there’s probably tentacles and some shit while porn music plays.”

Karkat squawks in protest, and scrambles to get the novel back from Dave, he’s even blushing a bit.

“Holy shit, your blushing, is that what this trash actually says?” Dave says, basically making out like one or two letters of the alternia alphabet he sort of attempted once, while keeping Karkat at bay.

“I’m blushing for the Gods’ who fucking gave rise to your pathetic species, so that all of space and time could configure to make that one sentence drivel out of your mouth hole like toxic waste material. So I’m basically blushing for us, because oh right, we are the God’s that created your puny existence. Shithead.”

Dave laughed, oh yeah this is what he was waiting for.

“You’re going to have to do better than that if you want your book back,” he says smirking, pushing off the couch to float above Karkat, who was okay, getting a little intense. Like may or may not claw your sides up, and insert his nubby horns in your eyeholes.

“Oh, you are not cheating and floating away from this, you giant flying fuckbro,” he says standing up and glaring upward at a hovering Dave.

“Fuckbro?” he inquires, raising his eyebrows slightly.

“You always using that word ~ “bro”~ all the time, so why the fuck not?”

“Well, it just sounds weird. Go back to fuckass or something.”

“I can expand my vocabulary however I want to, thank you. I am not a one word single celled organism. It’s called being ‘creative’ and ‘growing as a person,’ instead of, I don’t know, being an aloof asshole for my entire life.”

“Okay, wow, you are not getting your book back.” Dave said, opening it up to another page, “and the bucket seductively got onto the angry nubby horned trolls lap, gyrating like a mop in hea-”

Karkat actually got his scythe out and jumped up at Dave, apparently not amused at bucket lap dances. He hooks the weapon around Dave's ankle and navigates him straight into the wall. Dave felt a burst of bright pain erupt on the back of his skull, his reflexes apparently not what they use to be.

Dave abstracted his shitty broken sword out of his strife specibus, and floats down to Karkat’s level to fight properly. This was going to be a fucking full on strife (shit, yes).

“Are you actually grinning? Are you getting some sort of sick enjoyment from this?” Karkat says incorrigibly.

“You mean sick enjoyment for my future win? Yeah, maybe.” Karkat blushes, because even Dave is aware that is some sort of alien flirting. He expects Karkat to maybe protest and through a hissy fit about cultural insensitivity, and maybe leave (to jack off right?), but instead he closes his mouth and launches himself at Dave.

Dave hadn't had a good strife in awhile, because there is literally less and less to do on this meteor. And who’s he gonna fight? The clown? Kanaya already called dibs.

So he’s surprised when he’s breathing hard, and maybe even a little sore after ten minutes of jumping around the room like assholes, clashing weapons like two dude bro's in the gym armwrestling.

A metal clang reverberates through the air, Karkat finally gets the upperhand, and twists his scythe just in the right way to yank the sword out of Dave’s hand. Dave flash steps backward, and then straight up into Karkats grill, getting close enough to then knock his weapon out of his hand. Ah, yeah, he’s still got it.

Karkat looks like he’s going to give up, and put his arms in the air in an “enough of this bullshit” gesture, but Dave doesn't really feel done. Because done means going back to having nothing to do but be in his own head, which was not a fun place right now.

He pushes Karkat to the ground, because it is obviously time to wrestle. An almost memory arises of him doing this with his brother, but he pushes it back down.

“Get off you absolute waste of an intelligent life,” Karkat is sort of not down with all this, as he tries to push Dave off, both hands on Dave's face. But Dave maneuvers away and gets Karkat in a headlock.

“Say uncle,”

“fuck your human uncle!” Karkat squawks through the constriction in his throat, all too familiar at this point with human uncles.

Dave laughs, lets go and sits down on the arm of the couch, breathing hard. He may or may not be smiling unironically. Alert the fucking presses or something.

“What is,” huff, “wrong with you?” Karkat says apprehensively as he too catches his breath.

They stand in silence for awhile eyeing each other, Karkat looking more confused about what just happened than anything.

Dave shrugs. “Do you want to watch a troll movie?”

“What? Now?”

“I’m not doing anything.” Except maybe using you to feel less fucked up inside about stuff. “You?”

Karkat gives him an incredibly apprehensive look, his troll brain obviously doing backflips about what the fuck all of this means. Dave rolls his eyes behind his shades.

“Platonically, I mean. Brotonically.”

“Brotonically?” Krakat says slowly, under his breath “but fuckbro is across the line.”

Dave ignores that. “Tuesdays can be, like, Dave teaches you how to be a bro, and less of a wound up stick up his ass narcotic,”

“Wow. I can feel the platonic feelings of friendship from here.”

“Whatever. You can pick the movie.”

********

Dave can’t honestly say he remembers the movie, mostly he understood there was a heavy amount of misunderstandings and at least two love triangles. Jegus. He usually just pays attention when Karkat points out a flaw in the plot, or some hollow acting. Grumbling about how “wrigglers could give a more convincing performance.” Dave though, also doesn't fail to notice when Karkat sheds a tear during the scene where Troll Meg Ryan professes her love to Troll Hugh Grant. He doesn't say anything.

“Did you like it?” Karkat asks in a mix of trepidation and hope when the credits roll (and it is a long ass list of names and events).

Dave shrugs nonchalantly, “I liked the part where Troll Jessica Alba clumsily trips in the middle of the culling, and Troll Matthew Mcconaughey has help her up and explain to the laughassin it was all one big joke, and then they fall in love as he blackmails her into a date.”

Karkat gives him a look. Okay, maybe he was paying attention. But only ironically. Karkat gives him an almost smile, then looks away again.

“Also the lime blood? Someone was being culled for that?” Dave did not get the blood thing. Or the murder happy society that inspired young vibrant trolls to hook up with douche stoners, but whatever.

Karkat instantly looks uncomfortable, wrong question then.

“This is an old movie,” he says slowly, Dave crosses his arms, waiting for an elaboration.

“K?”

“it was, uh, more common to show culling for lime bloods in those days. When there were still some.”

“When there were some?” Dave expresses, genuinely grossed out, “fuck, dude your society's so fucked up.”

“Like you societies shit didn’t stink! I watched some of your history!” That made Dave a little uncomfortable.

“Okay, so yeah, lime bloods, are like, Troll's Jews, and this is like Nazi propaganda with Meg Ryan in it. Got it.”

Karkat rolls his eyes. “Spot on, master of perception. Your grasp and sensitivity to other cultures knows no bounds,”

“It’s part of culture to kill people for their blood type?”

A frosted silence stretches between them like a string of christmas lights, lighting up one by one.

“Some,” Karkat starts slowly after all the lights are on and Santa Claus is fucking half way through the entire song of jingle bells, “some blood types are more valued than others.”

Dave has the feeling they are talking about something more, but he has no idea exactly what.

 

Karkat looks back at Dave, face shading from simply 'closed off' to 'ready to leave' and he wants to put a gulch between himself and Dave the size of the grand canyon. He puts his hand out, “oh hey, nooksniffer, what about my book.”

Dave isn't ending things like that. Fuck no, who do you think he is?

“eeeh, maybe. What do you have to trade for it?”

“What?!” Karkat exclaims taken back.

“hey, calm down man. I spent most of the game perfecting the art of stock market shenanigans. Becoming the uber-capitalist. Making mackdaddy amounts of coin.”

Karkat gives him a blank look.

“Basically, I’m saying we don’t do freebies in Striderville, the economy is too tight. The market so sick, things must be traded for goods of equal and equivalent value.” He’s totally fucking with him.

“Really?? Really? You're going to make me buy back my own book _you stole from me?_ ” Karkats volume level reaches “boy lark” on it’s echeladder. Aaaand the weird lull in their relations is over.

Honestly though Karkat needs him, dude needs to learn to chill and recognize when to lay down the arms and see when people are just messing with him.

“Hey, I don’t make the rules bro, this isn't communist Russia.” he asserts, he almosts makes an “in communist Russia joke.” but decides it is perhaps almost too ironic. Paradox space is not ready for that meme to come back.

Karkat gives him a continually blank look. And then goes red in the face.

“I just wanted to read my book in peace on this godforsaken road trip from the Condescensions royal ass crack, and you come in here, pick a fight, and then expect me to pay you something in return??” Karkat is reaching redhot levels of hulk anger.

Dave gives him an ironic tiny grin, “too bad. You could have read in your room.”

“Arrg!” Karkat pushes him back onto the couch, and Dave is conflicted on how he feels about this development. Karkat scrambles on top of him. He is continually conflicted. Until Karkat grabs for his glasses.

“hey, not the shades!” He says trying to push him off, but Karkat is heavier than he looks.

“I’ll give you something of equal and equivalent, which have the same meaning puke sponge, value!” He rakes at Daves face, trying to get better leverage by anchoring his knee to Daves thigh.

Dave stops putting up a fight then, trying to avoid actual bodily injury, and yeah, okay maybe a one way ticket to bonerville. It’s an express ride that’s costs way too much for the sick destination right now.

“ha!” Karkat exclaims triumphantly, as he manages to jerk the shades off Daves face, Dave covers his eyes with one hand. He doesn’t know why. Karkat apparently puts them on, “oh, I’m Dave, I’m so cool, I wear ironic shades to show how much more detached I am then everyone, bluh, bluh, I’m a huge dick.”

“Oh, ha, wow you’re so funny” Dave says, not bothering to cover how unamused he is.

“I know I think I am, because I’m Dave.”

Dave growls. Why is still sitting on top of him and doing this? He guess it’s his retribution for Dave being an ultra-douche today, but really.

“Alright, get off.” He tries to shake Karkat off again, using his free hand to lift himself up but Karkat plants his knees deeper into the cushions, and then grabs Daves hands so he’ll stop struggling. Dave looks up him defiantly.

They stop being juveniles for a second and look at eachother. Karkat uses his free hand to take the glasses off, giving Dave a long stricken look.

“Do humans normally have red eyes?” He mumbles, obviously trying to come off as casual, but failing.

Dave has an entire speel for this. Dave has a million jokes. Dave has enough metaphors having to do with genitals that it would make a prostitute blush. Dave has a word version of a gnarly kickflip, and skateboard jump kick getting so much major air, so much, just for this occasion. Dave is prepared.

Instead he just says, “no.” a pause, “one of kind, heh.”

Karkat is kissing him.

Karkat is no experience and all gusto. Daves eyes are open. Their noses fit uncomfortably together. Dave is on bottom. Yet, the mouth collision sends tingly sparks of excitement to Daves brain. Karkat’s lack of hesitation is overwhelming. It is a long closed mouth kiss, Karkats arms at some point find their way around Dave's neck.

He’s not sure when he starts to kiss back, but there it is, a building momentum of lips and heat that slowly opens up into full open mouth sloppy make out. Daves tongue darts into Karkats mouth for a second and then retreats. Karkat nips Daves lips, Dave breath hicks.

He moves his tongue to lick his lips, opening them for his tongue to re-enter, petting the roof of Karkats mouth. He’s so much hotter than Terezi. Daves heart tightens in his chest.

It doesn't last, Karkats hand finds it’s way into his hair, latching onto the scalp, and tugging Daves head back, deepening the kiss. Dave makes a little noise in the back of his throat at Karkats continues yanking on his hair, wrenching his neck back. He might have problems.

Then it’s Karkats turn for his tongue to explore Dave's mouth. And dang is that puppy excited. It’s doesn’t hold any grace in the tongue strokes, but it takes his breath away, continually pushing up for more as Karkat pushes him down. It feels like they’re sinking eternally into the couch and leaves Dave dizzy in the head.

Dave had been keeping his hands to himself for the most part, not sure where this was going, but as Karkat glues their bodies together, sweat and spit mixing into a pool of teen hormones, melting his insides, he squeezes Karkats hips. He rubs little circles onto his upper thigh (he’s making his way to the booty, sshhh.), clutching onto the flesh like it’s his birthday and this the toy all the other kids want to play with. But they can’t. It’s his, oh God.

Dave thanks Troll Jegus for this gift from Troll heavens, as Karkat jerks his pelvic bones into Daves crotch area, which is now experiencing an independence day marked by fireworks, George Washington memorials and suffocating boxers.

“don’tstop,this,yes,ohman,I’mgoingto,uh,” Dave doesn't realize his babbling (a bad habit he experiences in life, and amplified in arousal), until Karkat bites his throat, coaxing out a long moan from the depths of Dave’s chest.

Yes, yes, yes. Fuck yes.

Dave turns it around, because he’s the kind of guy who gives back to the community, and latches his mouth onto Karkats shoulder next, moving up in little kisses until he’s at his neck. He sucks a dark red hickey into the skin that he hopes everyone will fucking see.

When the bruise is a nice wine blotch on a grey palette Dave moves his way upward to his jawline nipping and licking in alternating light and harsh pressures until Karkat is giving out strings of musical little breathy groins. Ah yeah, Dave is his conductor and Karkat's is his orchestra, and he’s going to blow the roof off this joint.

He finally finds Karkats mouth again, and gives him an embarrassingly intimate kiss, mouth slightly open and pressure light and… almost sweet. Dave would be losing so many cool points, if he gave even the slightest fuck right now.

Karkat suddenly pulls back. Dave leans forward trying to follow him, his brain stuck on a static wavelength of “more, more, more.”

“What are we doing?” Karkat asks in mild horror, eyes stretched wide across his face in alarm.

“What are we doing.” He repeats much more resolutely this time, and louder like he’s asking some greater power of paradox space why his little alien parts feel like playing with others.

Dave opens his mouth to say as much, and invite Karkat to stop being a drama Queen and play nice with the others. Or rough. Dave can do rough.

But Karkat is already getting off him, not even looking at him anymore as he wanders in a shocked daze away from the couch. Dave reaches out, fingers ghosting over the bottom of Karkats sweater. He doesn't grab on though. He remembers when he got a little…overwhelmed and Terezi backed off. It was a relief.

Karkat is almost out the door when Dave finds his voice, “hey! Take your book!”

He doesn’t turn around. Dave massages the bridge of his nose.

He sighs. He reaches inside himself, drawing on the stream of time that pulses and thrums somewhere in the recesses of his veins, always ticking at the edge of his fingertips, and the center of his soul (if that exists). It’s 8:38 PM on a Tuesday. Should he go back? It is worth breaking his own goddamn rules to undo making out with his ex-girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend?

He settles for the next best thing, and reaches into his pants, squeezing his throbbing member. The feller has been at full attention and leaking precome like it’s going out of style for awhile. And God, he hopes Rose walks in, gets a taste of her own fucking awkward medicine. Actually, that's still weird, Dave tries to retract the thought and focus on recent events.

To say the least he is not thinking of her when he finally strokes himself to completion. And for once in a long time, he’s not thinking about Terezi either.

“uhohyesKarkat!” Sparks fly behind his eyelids.

It’s only when he’s laying there cooling off does he realize he might have opened a door he can’t close again, one involving feelings he doesn't want to deal with, and boners pointing into a "you're less than straight!" direction.

And, oh yeah, he just made out with a _hopeless romantic_. Dave on a scale of one to ten is _absolute shit at romance_. Just ask Terezi. OhGodTerezi. He's going to have to stop this from getting out, and, like, not do this ever again. He puts his shades back on, and then rearranges his dick in his stiffening boxers. He realizes he doesn't want that. Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I was looking for something like this, couldn't find it, and wrote it myself! IDK I really like it. It maybe a multiple chapter fic (with more Tuesdays to come!), but I haven't decided yet.


	2. Extended Cultural Exchange

Karkat emerged from a dream bubble, weary and impossibly fed up with space-time paradox bullshit. He expertly locked his door, because who the fuck knew when the next bubble popped up, maybe right now, maybe in a sweep, and hello there 3rd God-tier Feferi, how the fuck are you? Oh, still dead? We have so much in common. Because Karkat was dead _on the inside_. Oh great mother grubs expanding sphincter, that was the worst thing he'd ever thought, he should just start writing poetry and join Eridan in the “pathetic loser” corner. Where everyone is desperate and overdramatic.

Dramatic as in desperately hiding from one particular someone like some sort of small panicked fur-beast. Such as: literally running from the room when he enters (very subtle), hiding in vents, and having near heart attacks at the sound of approaching footsteps on the off chance it was either Dave or a reaping drone come to cull him for his poor life decisions. Come one, come all, see the amazing Karkat perform new feets of fucking things up!

They made out. Karkat had. Kissed. Him.

Ug, just thinking about it made him want to creep into his pile and hibernate until the green sun burnt out. He settled for just flopping face first into it anyway.

→ Self reflection and overreaction engage.

Karkat already knew Dave had red eyes, it was imbedded in his fucking text. And from Karkat's extensive xeno-cultural research (Rom-coms. So many rom coms.) he'd actually known they weren't normal. So, hey, he and Dave finally had something else in common! (outside of Terezi) And it somehow short circuited Karkat’s brain into “hey it’s another mutant. MOUNT HIM.’ Fuck, he was blushing, he was blushing and it happened a week ago.

He was sort of glad for the dream bubble, which showed up right after that night, it made Dave easier to avoid for a sleep cycles. Because, oh yeah, _the fucker was seeking him out_. But he couldn't face Dave. No, not him, nope, no, fuck that noise. This was not in any quadrants, this was not in any normal patterns of courtship, or even fucking human behavior.

Karkat was so frustrated. He was so frustrated he was expecting to burst into the beautiful irritated rage volcano he was always meant to be. He tensed and some how burrowed deeper into his pile. New instructions: do not think about Dave, and bursting in the same sentence.

There came a abrupt knock at the door.

Speak of the human fucking devil, this little shit was banging on his door wasn't he? Unless of course it was his ex-morial Gamzee or friend Kanaya, but wait, they both ditched him for their significant others under questionable reasonability if their matches are good for anyone (answer: no.)! Karkat groaned into his pile, and only got up once Dave’s knocks became suspiciously obnoxious and rhythmic.

Low and behold when he gets to the door Dave was making a beat and rapping to it. Ugghh. Why was he attracted to this loser?

“Kar *bump* kat, open *bump* the fucking door *bump* I swear *bump* it won’t be stupid awkward *bump* you nubby loser *bump, bump, bump,*”

Karkat reluctantly opened the door a crack, “...What do you want?”

Dave barged all the way in, pushing Karkat aside easily for full access to the room.

“Okay, look dude, I'd hope you'd understand on your own, but like, the two times we've interacted since last Tuesday, it’s Tuesday again by the way, you acted like a complete car wreck, and not the kind you gawk at and put pictures up on the internet about,” Dave rambled, on the surface it was in his “cool kid” demeanor, but to the trained eye, it was easy to notice Dave was fidgeting, and obviously flustered. He’s lying. He’s completely lying, and he’s shit at it.

He humors the poor guy.

“Understand what? .. Also how do you know where my respite block is?” Karkat asks carefully eyeing Dave up and down.

Dave snorted, “oh man, respite block, you guys are priceless.” He says with a glint of amusement in his otherwise blank ass face. Karkat tries not lose it, and rubbed his eyes in exasperation.

“It was Kanaya, whatever, what I'm here for, is like a cultural reunderstanding or some shit,” he sounded much more like the regular Strider.

“Reunderstading? Are you kidding me?” He says suspiciously.

Dave shrugs, “you explained that completely asinine troll romance thing to me. It’s a continued cultural exchange.” he puts little finger rabbits around “cultural exchange,” to depict that, yes, some part of this is still sardonic.

Karkat--->lose it.

“Okay. Okay. Let’s say for a second we go back to exchanging communal human interactions. Say we develop this wonderful feeling, it’s still a feeling, called human friendship, and things are “cool” between us. That is missing the one pivotal point. The majority of my friends are dead because of completely avoidable teen drama, and by the way now I have to see them in the mind numbing fuckery that is the afterlife. And oh yeah, we engaged in sloppy human-troll makeouts, let’s not forget that. And there’s enough baggage between you, me and Terezi to build a fucking pile to the green moon and clobber white-text guy to death with our collective emotional baggage. Let’s avoid teen drama, let’s not engage in maybe-murder hormonal based exploits. Rules of Karkat, you're fearless fucking leader.” Karkat went off fervently, the words having built up for the last week, bubbling out him like a boiling pot left with lid on too long. It almost felt good.

Dave stares back at him passively. “Dude. I stopped listening after the first sentence.” Of course he did. Karkat pulls his own hair in frustration, and somehow avoids strangling the guy with own his flashy cape.

“Look, it’s not like I was coming onto you-”

“Oh, yeah, I left before that happened,” Karkat says with venom in his teeth. If Dave is bothered he doesn’t show it.

“But it was a human bro thing.”

“A human bro thing.” Karkat repeats incredulously.

“Yeah, like a test. A test to exercise your “nohomo” and “completely straight” creds.”

Karkat is 98% certain on some level that this is not true. But he’s also marginally curious on where this joker is taking things.  

“Right, so you were just brushing up on your human resume for universal adoration. For being a bro.” Karkat responds caustically.

“ _That’s-the-most-accurate-sentence-I-have-ever-heard_.” Dave says in one breath, “I have personally already managed to graduate in the ‘sick-rap’ category, as well as mastered the smack-down on any fool that wants to fuck with me. I was just missing my bro card. The super so close we make out, but so straight it’s not gay. Then I can level up to ultimate Dave. Enough cool to make all the honeys swoon, and all the dudes weak at the knees. Nohomo.”

Karkat is confused. Confused and gaining way too much hope for where this going. Fuck his imagination is all he had to say. One, this sounds almost certainly even too ridiculous for humans standards, he’s seen the movies. Two, from the very beginning “gay” (and “straight”) never sounded like a real thing that existed in real reality, and now there’s a whole culture around it? or avoiding it? Aliens, fuck ‘em.

“You don't have to help in this endeavour. It was never really your thing,” he says as over dramatically as Striders get.

“Didn't I” Karkat replies slowly, “already help?”

Dave pauses for a second, like he can’t believe Karkat may or may not be buying this epic-attempt at ass-covering. And sure why not give the guy the benefit of the doubt, he doesn't have anything else going on.

“So, Xeno-cultural exchange day with Dave is just making females fall over and act like we don't care about things we obviously do?”

“Hold on there, you're not ready for even half of those. No, we’ll to start someone like you off small. Like, with not flipping a table every time someone looks at you wrong.” Dave says, his smug tone asking for punch in the mouth.

“I'm not doing slam poetry.”

“Rap.”

“Whatever. Not gonna happen.”

“We'll talk about it.”

*****

It’s exactly two hours later when they start making out again, he knows this because Dave repeats the time to him for some reason, it’s 9:23 on a Tuesday. Who the fuck cares, someones tongue is down your throat, nobody cares.

It was an incredibly contrived series of events that led to this ‘test’ of his ability to cultivate the ‘nohomo’. Which he pretty much already failed. But it was okay, the test was irrelevant to begin with, he just really wanted into Daves pajama pants. Is that too much to ask for in his young mutant life?

Dave suddenly trailed his thin hands down Karkats side, bringing him back to the moment. Dave noticed his reaction and pet his side a little more forcefully, Karkat, to his shame, gave out a fucking shallow gasp. Shit, he should not be this sensitive.

But he was. Daves hands brush moved up and down both his sides until he’s squirming, and his sweater felt too way hot. When did that happen?

They heatedly squirmed on the coach for a good ten minutes, reenacting their last meeting, Karkat straddling Striders midsection and pressing his lips down on him like Dave was Alternia and Karkat was a fucking meteorite on the reckoning. And shit if Karkat wasn't going to wreck this gangly nerd (note to self: erase from memory bank the fact you actually put that string of words together).

Karkat several times smothered the dissenting voice in the back of his head that told him _this is such a bad idea_.

He'd listened to it before, and look what he got: zero sloppy human-troll make-outs, 10 horrorterrors worth of sexual frustration, bad decisions one, past relationship baggage… still a problem.

 

Karkat resisted his natural instinct to _ruin everything good he ever had_ by sticking his tongue further down Striders throat, and get lost in the heat of the moment.

Dave wriggled under him for a moment, making breathy little noises, Karkat rejustided his weight distribution, Dave unexpectedly thrusted up against Karkats ass, Karkat guessed, involuntarily.

It was a night of miracles. Human tuesdays were sanctified by the human Jesus. Strider was blushing, and what look, fucking speechless. Karkat did that, suck a bulge low self confidence.

Karkat gave Dave a devious grin, pausing to give the boy a moment to relish in his embarrassment, think it’s safe, then he ground down on Daves pelvis. He had no idea what he was doing, but Dave arched up into it all the same, his eyes screwed shut.

“Oh, man, no, I, uh, why, yes, keep, yes, that, do that.” Dave got his voice back, letting out a string of disjointed noises, he swore the blonde had enough words to drown a mime.

Karkat followed his last order though, grinding down on him until they found an uncoordinated rhythm that sent both of them off into mortifying porn noises.

Karkat was humping Dave Strider. If he had told his old self this a sweep ago he would have probably burst a blood vessel.

Karkat pushed up Daves shirt, exposing his very human navel. It was cute, in a grotesque alien way. The Knight of Times sharp hipbones though, that translated just fine.

“What? like what you see?” Dave asked with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Don't ruin this for me Strider.” He said putting extra pressure down the next pitch into Daves pelvis, he could feel Daves bulge-dick-whatever straining against the fabric of his pants. He was sure Dave could feel his as well, though it wasn't all the way of it’s sheath.

“Do I, uh, fucking, ah, ever?” Shit, he thinks he actually liked this version of Strider. Really liked.

“Yeah, got me there cool guy.”

Karkat figured if he got Daves shirt off, he could then not-so-awkwardly take his own shirt off next, because shit it was like being assaulted by wool heater at this point.

He lifted the red fabric up tentatively up to Daves armpits, two human nipples appeared next after the naval, and it was also… Interesting he guessed? He have to ask Dave what human males even do with them later.

Karkat reached down and removed Daves glasses from his face, so they wouldn't get tangled in the cloth, but Dave reached out and grabbed his wrist, glasses stalling in mid transition. Daves red eyes met Karkats in a hard stare, his heart beat sped up uncomfortably fast. Dave seemed to make some silent decision, he let Karkat take the glasses the rest of the way off. He placed Daves shades on a nearby surface near his pile.

Their eye contact held. It was painfully intimate in a way that Karkat was 100% certain neither of them were the type of guys know how to handle. They were the type to build _a lot_ of barriers. Not this.

They pulled a hair away from each other, a cold snow nestling in between unsaid words, the air drained of any color. It somehow wasn't about Terezi.

Right then Karkat bitterly realized that this could never work. No one could pity him, he knew that, he accepted that, not a mutant, not a troll and- Dave leaned in, crossing the gulf between them, he leaned in. Why did he lean in?

The kiss was butterfly soft, hesitant, heart crushing, his blood pusher banging into his ribs like a troll jackhammer.

Karkat didn't know what to make of this, but at least both of their eyes were closed now.

Dave slipped out from under Karkat, pushing himself into an upright position, still pressing their mouths together faintly. He paused, face emptier than usual, he removed his shirt (plus fucking cape) that Karkat had been trying to get off all night.

In some sort of trance, Karkat removed his sweater as well (fucking finally). They sat facing each other, Daves smooth pale torso,  across from Karkats broad shoulders and frame. What were they doing?

It was Karkat who breached the gap this time, pulling Dave into a cavernous kiss by cupping his chin and tilting his head up.

Dave reached down and pulled his own boxers down along with his pants to reveal a...what the fuck? Karkat stopped what he was doing, Dave took that as a sign to pull Karkat’s pants down as well.

“....What in the name of puppet fucking porn is that?”

“Me? What the fuck is that? A worm in a sweater?!” Karkat exclaimed using both hands the gesture at, dare he say it, a worm wearing a sweater.

The weird trance they entered into broke, the sandpaper rough intimacy melted away. Thank the fucking powers that watch over Karkats life, shit on it, and then grant mercy!

It’s like his soul could exhale the giant nail stuck in it’s throat. Dave must have sensed that too, as he perked right up.

Strider reached tentatively out towards Karkats bugle, he held his breath, this was really happening, years of research, months of study, Karkat was ready.

Strider touched it, an electric current ran up Karkats spine at direct contact. He wasn't ready, his bulge completely overreacting by curling into itself and self-lubricating until the red liquid graced the edge of his inner thigh.

“Su-fucking-goi,” Strider said suddenly. “This was always going to happen wasn't it? No other way.”

“What?”

Dave gave him the most blank look Karkat had ever seen.

“Karkat-tentacle monster-san.”

“What?”

“treat me gently. It’s my first time, and my cherry blossom has never been touched by such rippling suction cups on hot man-meat.” Dave expressed in a high pitched voice still with a straight face.

Ug, no.

“Are...you, pretending to be a human female, fuckface? Is this some sort of terrible ritual I'm going to regret hearing about later?” Also, _touch me_ , also this is stupid, also why aren't you touching me?

“Japanese schoolgirl, fuck you you very much. It’s a tentacle, that is a large ass tentacle. And that’s all it could ever be, isn't it? No other way.”

“Oh, and what about your pink upturned noodle? That’s less weird?”

Dave didn't answer, look off into the ceiling, looked back, and then off into the ceiling again.

“Yeah, okay, now I'm over it,” Dave kneeled down, somehow done with fulfilling his being aggressively ironic quota and then getting “over it,” what ever the fuck that was.

“Aliens have weird junk. I'm a Japanese school girl. My life is shit show of weirdness. I left my power of disbelief back in Texas, bro.” Dave was directly crotch level with Karkats bulge, “I'm down with this.”

“You’re down?” Karkat needed to stop asking so many stupid questions, but first his brain had to catch up with _holy grubfucking adolesence this was really happening_.

Dave looked up at him cheekily,

“I’m down.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Karkat's cheeks turned the color of Daves discarded cape.

Karkat was hesitant to guess what this meant. It might be good things. Dave opened his mouth. _It might be really good things._

Before the warmth of Dave’s mouth could overwhelm him, Karkat had to engage in bulge-blocking himself. Because you know, why fucking not Karkat.

“Wait, wait.” Dave looked up at him, a twitch of irritation, rejection?, in his face. Karkat opened his mouth to finish, but Dave got up too quick (floated up) like he was spring loaded.

“I, uh, understand….dude. I should have asked, also it’s late and uh and if you're not-”

“No!” Karkat asserted, he'll admit, too forcefully, “just ground rules, okay, rules.”

Daves eyes lit up, which was a new look for that normally covered part of his face.

“Well, first off, the Safe Word is, ‘oh, sempai!” he said, like this still some huge joke, except they both mixed their genetic materials at the end instead of yelling ‘HONK’ as the punchline.

“No, I mean, I don’t want to, you know,” this is the worst thing Karkat had ever done, and _he had gotten the majority of his friends killed,_ “your dick or whatever in my nook, I’m not sure about that, just for reference for how far...” Karkat made the gesture of what that would look like, immediately regretted it and the whole sentence, and trailed off. Troll Jegus strike him down where he stands.

Dave looked a little too pleased with Karkats squirming, “one, I would have totally asked before I diddled anyones dough.” Mother glubs, this asshole. “Plus, I wasn't really planning to either? This  _isn't_  our wedding night, sempai.” _This asshole_.

“Two, and more importantly, holy shit you have a vag, and a tentacle dick. It’s a like a bisexual birthday, fuck yes, I'm so fucking down for your alien biology, it’s like a new definition in inter-xeno dictionary of totally fucking down.”

Karkat was about to say something snarky, and aggressively frustrated ( _touch me fuck-boy_ ) but then a sickening pride hit him when he realized Dave had never seen a naked troll before. He was the first.

A burning curiosity churned in his gut, Terezi and Dave had been together for around a sweep and half.. What happened?

Before he could dwell on this for too long, the troll part of his brain wired to CONQUEST and INVADE wanted to sink his teeth into the new territory. The “untouched” ground. Gog, that was messed up, but also yes, yes conquer this nerd.

He descended on Dave like a vulture, devouring his already bruised lips in a snarling kiss. Dave made a small sound of surprise in the back of his throat and then, not to be outdone, pushed right back up into it.

He put his lean fingers to work, scraping them across Karkats back like five pronged forks, Karkat managed to suppress an embarrassing sound and glued his hands to Daves shoulders pressing down with his claws lightly (human skin was fragile after all).

Dave arched into the touch. Then took one of his hands off Karkat, and lowered it.

Oh. _Oh._

He some how got up the gall to curl his hand around Karkats bulge, uncertain fingertips sliding across the open pores, his tree-beast paws too rough and the sensation sending shivers up Karkats spine. Dave leaned in, heavy, with his head next to Karkat's ear, hot air hitting Karkat's hearing orifice in erotic puffs while he touched him.

“Dude." he whispered, "this is so fucking slimy, are trolls just  _made_ of homemade lube?”

Karkat was suddenly grounded, he growled, “don't. Ruin this for me Strider. Just this one time. Drop your septic tank of an attitude down a hole, and enjoy, for a moment, the fact some other sentient life wants to come within ten feet of your diseased genitals and participate in this-”                                                                                      “--"brobonding.” Dave cut in.

Karkat actually barked out a laugh at that, it was neither the time nor the place to do so, but Strider had that effect on him. (ie inappropriate times to laugh and also fucking do everything else in this “romance.” Hell, if this was a porn or a rom com they'd be taken off the air within a week.)

“Sure, Dave. Whatever you want to call it." Karkat replied almost affectionately.

Dave should have probably said something bored and detached right back, but they ended kissed instead, they were getting good at that.

Karkat decided to take things into his own hands, enough fucking bullshit, and grabbed Dave's jagged hips and pushed them up against his own.

Dave gasped as Karkats bulge instinctively wrapped around his joystick (and yes, Karkat used this description of a dick to not only punish himself- because this was way too much not-terrible things happening all at once to someone like him- but also punish all of paradox space for people using that word to describe anything ever resembling a dick.)

“Erg-uh,Karkat,mmm” Dave was getting incoherent again. This was a good sign, “it’s-stillso fucking slimy.”

alkjfl;kl, this guy. Karkat picked up the speed of his thrusts, choking Daves words back into fragments. They closed the little room there was left between them, and Karkat found a wall to finally get leverage on, pushing the blonde boy’s back up onto it. Dave shivered from the most likely cold contact of the wall, but they continued, heavy breathing choking the air.

Dave’s human-bulge was unreal, alien you could say (if you're a twat). In the, uh, adult theatre Karkat had perused in his travels bulges intertwined and wrapped around each other often, but it was a prereq for the real show, lacking intensity and even “hotness”. This was not that.

Dave’s skin was rough and edged in all the wrong places, stiff, dry, it pulled on all the stupid sensitive pores on Karkats bulge, setting the nerve endings on fire.

And motherfucking Jegus if he wasn't losing it.

Karkat screwed his eyes shut, concentrating on not riding the building climax pooling in his gut out just quite yet. His bulge undulated faster anyway, trying to get a tighter grip or get away as it was rubbed raw by Daves prickly skin, fuck this still was weird. But Karkat would straight up murder someone if it was interrupted now.

Dave seemed to be the first one reaching the payoff, rocking his head back and forth and rambling interceded by little cry’s.

“Karkat, karaket,ohmy, uh,thereisagod, this is, umph, I’m, eg, jeez, can’t Ican’t, can;t, Kar,kat, glad its's you,”

The speel was mostly word vomit at this point, and he had a vague idea Dave was going to regret it later as “uncool,” but. But.

Glad it was you. Glad. It. Was. You. GLAD IT WAS FUCKING YOU.

Karkat had no right to blow this up his in his mind, a lot of people said a lot of things they didn’t mean, even when they weren't pressed up against a wall and pseudo-fucked. But it must of hit home somewhere in his twisted consciousness because the next thing Karkat knew he was seeing red behind his eyelids and someone’s claws were digging holes into his wall. 

Karkats brain turned off for the first time since he almost died, a brief moment of pure clarity spilled over him like cold rain water, next level orgasm. He realized something very important, very crucial to what was going on, then he lost it immediately afterwards, like a bright light dawning and then receding again when he opened his eyes. If they were ever closed?

Coming down after that was not as pleasant.

Karkat was immediately bombarded with the scene of a dumbstruck Strider covered from waist to thighs in red. Oh shit.

Dave just stood there with his arms up looking down in a mix of horror and, what, disgust? He couldn't tell. Nevertheless, Karkat was instantly mortified. He should have captchalogged a bucket. A long time ago.

From what he could tell at least Dave had cum too, as his stomach was streaked with white material and his dick creature was no longer standing on end.

They stood in silence, both not moving. Karkat prayed to all the powers that be to think of something to break the awkwardness. Several lines went through his head, such as: “it’s a good look for you,” or “it matches your eyes.” or better yet, “we’ve reached the height of cultural exchange. You’re welcome.” All of them made him sound like an asshole. But who was he kidding he didn't have any other setting than “asshole.”

“So. How was it for you?” He finally said after clearing his throat three times. Dave didn't respond for another long cold moment.

“The fuck man?” he seemed to come back. “Fuckign aliens, just made of goo and lube, fucking perfect.”

“Will sorry work at all?”

“This is the bucket thing isn't it? You just have so many little trolls to shoot out of your slime trunks you literally need buckets.”

“I mean, it’s usually more, I’m not that old yet.”

Dave looked even more taken back.

“The fuck man?”

Karkat grimaced, “do you need anything?”

“No. Yes. I’m going to take a shower,” Dave replied waddling away awkwardly with his arms raised, “don’t slime anything. Or throw out my shades while I’m gone.”

"uh, yes, yes, yeah," Karkat agree's, he's aware these are sarcastic requests, but he would honestly agree to whatever the Knight of Time said right now.

"Also," Dave said pausing before he entered Karkat's ablution block, "yeah, it was good. Real.. good, dude." Dave closes the door very quickly after and Karkat soon hears running water.

Karkat felt later maybe he should have followed him, or at least had the decency to crawl into his pile and feel bad about cumming all over the guy for a while, instead he flopped down onto the soft pile and fell asleep immediately. He dreamed in fragments of light and sound, and about a certain blonde asshole that visited him on a beach for some reason.

When he woke up Dave, and all of Dave’s stuff, was gone, Karkat proceeded to stare at his ceiling for ten minutes, get up once to hang a poster over the claw marks in his wall and put some clothes on, then went to sleep for the rest of the day, smothering his burgeoning conflicted emotions with unconsciousness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for commenting, giving kudos and reading! I really appreciate it and can't express how much it means to me!  
> Some stuff:  
> I actually wanted to add this after the first upd8, ie when Caliborn and I became shipmates on this motherfucking yaiofest (why, Hussie?). #as canon as it will ever be haha  
> However, it was surprisingly difficult to write Karkat, like he's this balance of anger, melodrama, self-awareness, hopeless romanticism and, like, guilt. It's beautiful. Also, hard to write.  
> \---  
> FUTURE ME: holy shit, I'm a dirty liar, Davekat is canon as fuck, I have never been happier


	3. If You're Into That Sort of Thing

Dave darts around the corner of one of the meteor’s hallways, he crouches down after rounding the bend, making himself a smaller target and holding his weapon at the ready. He glances around him, making sure either side of him is clear, his target could be anywhere. When he see’s it’s relatively safe he puts his back against the wall, and waits. 

Which he’s not particularly good at. He starts fidgeting almost immediately, and wondering where the hell the guy got off to.

Dave is almost ready to give in and go on the prowl himself, when he suddenly hears footsteps from around the corner, hell _yes_ , time to go. He bursts from the adjacent hall firing at will, weapon on rapid fire, shedding bullets like his name is Vin Diesel in some dick flick 500.

Half a dozen nerf darts bounce off the back of Kanaya's head. Oops.

She turns around to look at him, a confused, hurt if he reads it right, look on her face.

“Uh...” Dave expresses eloquently, grasping for a way to explain this to the alien he knew pretty much only knew through what Rose told him. So like, hot and a vampire. Before they can have an awkward jam in the middle of the meteor Dave hears a series of pops behind him.

 _Pop. Pop. Pop._ Shit, he feels at least two soft impacts on the back of his head.

“Not fair!” He exclaims turning around to face him head on while dodging the oncoming projectiles. Karkat must have talked to a wizard and got +10 accuracy _in exchange for his soul_ or some shit, because Dave got a faceful of darts, and one sticking literally 90 degrees off of his shades. This is so dumb. And he is impressed.

“Haha! That was eight shots douche, I win!” Karkat proclaims pumping his fist in the air.

He should have never alchemized nerf guns for them.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Dave says, picking off the dart from his shades, “got me this time Vantas.”

“Got you every single time Strider.” he mocks triumphantly, “you fucking suck at this," he pauses in his gloating, "oh, hi Kanaya,” he adds in much more reserved manor, waving at her when he notices her staring at them as a bemused spectator.

“Hello.” She says back, frowning slightly, “this isn't a... _duel_ is it?”

Dave delves up from back of his memory that alongside “hot vampire” she’s also like a mama bear. Mama bear with a chainsaw.

“Nah,” Karkat replies, “I am just school feeding a human at their own completely benign pansy games.”

And so okay Dave was a lot better at swords then he was airsoft guns, but c'mon dude.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. I’m going to alchemize my foot up your ass if you get anymore smug about this.”

“Tch please, you can't even aim that well.”

“Well since it’s such HUGE target I'm not sure I'll need to.”

They start exchanging barbs like it’s a chain link fence symposium.

“Ahem, alright then,” Kanaya says discretely, “play nice and so forth.” She waves tentatively at them, and slides out of the room.

“Bye Kanaya, and sorry about hitting you in the head n’ shit, we should hang out sometime.” Dave calls after her trying to mend the damage, buuuut she’s pretty much gone.

 

“Man, I should check up on those two, make sure they aren't alien pregnant or in too deep or something,” Dave murmurs to himself.

“Tch, don’t bother, I saw Rose this morning, she’s still drunk off her ass, funnier, but also I couldn't understand half of what she said.”

“Right.” Dave replies, knitting his eyebrows together, he wasn't sure what to do about her booze problem, like, at all, but hell if he wasn't pissed that she brushed him off every time he mentioned it. He'd deal with it later.

“So hey, uh,” Karkat starts, “I'm going to visit the ablution block. But… ‘hang out’ later tonight?” He asks, ears perking up questioningly. It was cute.

“And what the hell do you think we've been doing the last week? Duh.” Dave enforces, Karkat looks pleased, the guy needed reassurance every 3 hours Dave wasn't going to unfriend him like this is facebook and run off with some other grey alien to bro out with, but he got that. Dave was pretty fucking great catch afterall.

 

“Okay, see ya later,” he waves him off turning the other direction and stalking off.

Dave, thinking of nothing better, ends up meandering his way back to his room as well.

The last two weeks had been nice-ish, as summarized by 

Meteor adventures: not bad

Friendship game: **STRONG**

Macking on that: _very weak_

 

Dave was going to be honest, the meteor ride had seriously improved within the last two weeks, and it came from the most surprising source (hint: it’s exactly what you think it is): ~friendship~.

After Dave had seriously macked on that two weeks ago he'd assumed Karkat would go back to hiding from him like a huuuge pussy and Dave having to track him down for damage control again. However, the little twerp was full of surprises, and exactly the opposite happened, Karkat and him had been hanging out like real bro’s . Sure they fought and mostly did dumb shit like alchemize nerf guns and walkie talkie wrist watches, but damn if it wasn't fun.

Did any of this include more epic makeouts? No, not at all, in fact Dave had no idea what was going on, what it “meant”. He sighs, sighs like one of those chicks sitting by the ocean waiting for her man to return home, when will his balls come back from war? Return, and give him the strength to mack on that once more.

Dave is wandering down the grey hallway, finally making his way back to his room or whatever, when he spots Rose teetering down some steps a little way off, hand braced against the metal wall to support herself.

Dave tilts his head, watching her progress as she stumbles, catches herself on the wall, then pats it woozily like an old friend who stopped her from falling to her death, which honestly might be what happened.

He stands there contemplating helping her on her way, on one hand it was 100% his brotherly duty, and on the other hand seeing her made him feel 100% fucking guilty for not fulfilling that duty in, he didn’t know, _not becoming an alcoholic_.

She notices him anyway,

“hic. Dave!” She says cheerfully waving at him. Dave gives her a wary sideways grin, “heey, Rose.” She stumbles towards him,

“how’s the drinking, and, I guess, being in an actual relationship unlike the rest of us schmucks?” He says light heartedly if not with a dash of passive aggression. Sober Rose would be proud.

“Haha, hic, pretty good,” she says absently, “how’s” she laughs, covering her mouth with her hand grossly, “hic, being a HUGE NERD, pfft,” she laughs drunkenly at her own pristine wit which only improves with the intake of vodka, pauses, looks at him, and then breaks out in a laughing fit again.

Dave sighs, oh fucking man she is wasted.

“Wow, got me there,” he says hoping to reach a new level of deadpan, like undeadpan or immortalpan, or oh wait that’s fucking stupid, he sighs, “where are you going?”

She stops laughing, though her shoulders still shake slightly, “t’find Kanaya, that’s, hic, where” she responds gleefully.

“Man, I just saw her,” Dave says, “though are you sure you don't want to go back to your room or something?” He says, looking her up and down, she comes off as super drunk, and Dave is super sure knowing she puked on her GF would ruin her morning (alongside the hangover).

“Don't be, hic, stupid!” She says, giving him a playful push to the shoulder, “‘m feeling great! Want to get my girlfriend on if, hic, you know what I mean,” she winks at him, and then winks again, and then, holy shit it’s just an abundance of winking. Dave is finding this really mostly sad, but he gives in, Kanaya can probably handle hyper inebriated Rose, right? He mentally shrugs, she was about to anyway.

“I don't think I want to know, but also yeah I know what you mean,” Dave remarks bitterly as he strolls her down the hallway, referring to the fact he’s totally walked in on them.

Rose laughs again, “what?” she slumps against his shoulder.

“Nothin’, just saying we need to have a group discussion on use of the common room one of these days.”

“Sure Dave,” she replies with that absent minded smile. He rolls his eyes behind his shades, and steers her down the hallway responsibly. Responsibly. He was now the fucking responsible one in the relationship, their dynamic was officially screwed up to hell and back again.

Dave gives her a sidelong glance anyway, it occurs to him Rose will probably not remember tomorrow anything he asked her tonight. A blank slate, an unsigned check, a _freebie_.

“So, uh, trolls amiright?” Dave starts out like a real pro. Rose gives him a blank stare. He doesn't blame her. “Just saying, meeting weird aliens in the middle of space, and they're not like fucked up versions of Alf or worms with teeth that bursts out your chest....and they speak english and read it. It’s almost like we're compatible. In a lot of ways, right? Compatible. Physically.”

Rose gives him a dopey blank smile, she isn't getting it. He isn't either to be honest, he'd have to be direct.

He takes a deep breath, he was gonna do this, do it for science.

“Does-the-sex-stuff-matchup... is what I'm asking.” He'd been thinking about this a lot, she doesn't answer, he goes again, "HOW IS THE SEX?"

She stares at him, he stares back, she stares, he returns, it’s pretty fucking dramatic. Despite being the coolest dude on this rock, Dave suddenly has some serious pangs of self doubt.

Luckily, drunk Rose is predictably easy going, and predictably annoying as fuck about it, and laughs at him for literally five minutes.

Five minutes, they aren’t even going anywhere at this point, he’s just leading her around aimlessly. God dammit.

“Okay…?” He starts as her laughter starts to die down.

“...bahah! hic, Are red in the face? haha!” She is terrible, Dave is full of regret.

“You know what? Let’s actually forget this. And never talk of it again, unless like in highly mediated therapy.”

“Pfft. I can be your therapist.”

“Oh my God.” The winking is back.

Her weird implication winks do subside when Dave has no clever comeback, she still looks mischievous though,

“What’s this about?” She finally asks slyly.

“Nope. Moments passed. Locked up, in a chest, 200 leagues under the ocean, with 5 locks on it, and fifty miles of cement, that’s how fucking locked up.”

“Tell me.” She says seriously, “tell me, tell me, tell me”

“Aren't you supposed to be a seer or something?” He snipes.

She deflates a little, “is it, hic, Terezi then?”

He gives her a bitter stare, pursing his lips together more than a little, she visibly flinches,

“uh, right. Not that...Well, if you're gonna know, it can be, hic, good. Need som’ practice is what,” there’s a pause, “how much detail are we talking about anyway?”

“Just…” He says, “you don't need any freaky prep-kits? Like, space condoms...space dildos...”

Roses face gets very serious for a second, "Dave. There is no shortage of phallic shaped objects re'uired for sexcual intercourse with extra-terrest-tesr- aliens. Limitless space dildos."

He nods solemnly in response, "that's exactly what I thought." 

She puts a hand on his shoulder, "you're ready."

Dave chuckles for a second, Rose joins in, it feels like early times, or disturbingly close to them. 

But it's not the same, (for reasons of why not? or why should it be),

"Soooo, is this, uh, about not-Terezi then?" she says probingly, Dave is one proud of his hetero cred as Karkat is not even guessed, but two also fucking displeased as fuck with this development, tact escaped her like orphans running out of a burning building, burning orphans Rose. 

"Nah, son." He answers casually, though if his frown had an album it would be called 'Can you fucking not?', "I was just curious or whatever."

“Curiouss, huh? Well, it's good for the ladies is what I'll, hic, say," she's looking coy again "what were you looking for, Davie?” She looks like the aunt at Thanksgiving that should never be allowed around near kids.

She even manages to stumble on her dress, and wobble towards the edge of one of the platforms, perching on this side of almost dying. All the blood drains from Daves face for a second as he envisions her broken at the bottom, but she laughs it off, she'd come back anyway. Daves eyebrow twitches upward in annoyance.

 _Also_ oh god. Davie. This was still turning out as a mortifying idea after all.

She cozies up right next to him again like she hadn't just given him a heart attack, they don't talk about it,

“were you fishing for _details_ , ya freak?” Wink. Wunk. 

“I don't actually know what I expected from this. But nope, nah, that’s good, I'm good. Enough detail, no detail.” This had now gotten awkward at least ten sentences ago, and yes, Dave spots it, hell yes, he actually gotten them to her room.

 

Dropping her off at her own place was the more responsible thing to do, and had nothing to do with the fact it occurred to Dave if Rose drunkenly mentioned his query to Kanaya he would literally have to commit seppuku while throwing himself off the meteor.

“wha’s this?” She asks as they close in on the door.

“Bed. Sleep. You're drunk Rose, go home.”

“I wanted to see Kanay’u! Yu ass.” She frowns at him, tapping him on the shoulder with her fist then crossing her arms resolutely, “ain’t, hic, going.”

He sighs, “Are we really going to do this Rose?” Exasperation actually seeping out of his voice and probably visibly filling the corridor. He wanted to just drop her ass off now, and forget about this issue of dysfunction junction brought to you by the letter gin.

“Are we really doing this?” He continues in  _not_  a chill way.

The corners of Roses lips tug down, “what do you me'an?” She finally asks apprehensively.

“You!” Dave is losing it now, a mood whiplash from their second of reconciliation, he's losing it, and it is not cool. “You used to be like, mature and shit, even when we were kids, and maybe I totally made fun of you for thinking you were adult, plus like an acult expert, but that was Rose! Now here I am dragging your unstable ass across the meteor like it’s fucking day care and Dave is the appointed babysitter n’ Chief. Hell, Bro would hand my ass to me if I acted like this much of a bitch ass kid at six.”

He audibly breathes out through his nose, clenching his hands. She just looks confused, her eyes unfocused and dull, lips pouting. For some reason her woobie-ness just pisses him off more, he should stop, but he doesn't, he should be cool about her coping, but he’s not,

“and I get it, _your mom_ , or whatever, but hey you don’t see me making puppet porn, Jesus I just bury that shit down and write a commemorative rap... the end of the world literally happened, and we all lost somebody Rose! It's not an excuse to be... _this,_ ” he gestures erratically, flying off the handle like it was the handles birthday and he was the fucking card with no money in it from the relative nobody liked.

And maybe he had taken it too far.

Little wet sockets of water gather around the corners of Roses eyes.

“Oh shit, fuck,” he takes a step towards her, reaching out, she takes a step back in retreat, “Rose… I just, what I meant was,” he’s losing his words, she’s going to cry, and he is officially an ass.

“Imma, hic, go sleep,” she says weakly, clutching her hands to her chest and leaning on the door.

“I meant to say, I just don't want to lose you too,” that sounded way fucking better, why didn't he say that first? Dave tries to approach her again. But like all the dead trolls, the damage had been done, and nobody’s coming back.

She doesn't look impressed and opens the door, Dave hears a distinct sniffle,

“I’m gunna, hic, work onit, ‘right” she closes the door after her.

Dave presses his forehead against the cold metal of the door, really trying not hear the muffled crying from within, unwilling to actually leave. Cause y’know, he’s the asshole who had to do this.

Dave eventually starts to walk dourly back to his room, not having got up the guts to knock on the door and try to untangle this mess. He puts his hands in his pockets, head down as he troops home.

Dave can hear the little voice in his head asking why he couldn't let her be happily drunk? Let her see Kanaya, flirt, wink, puke on her, whatever, have a good time.

It was like the opposite of chill, it was like, well, a Karkat. Emotional outburst with 0% chance of irony, 25% chance of dickishness, and 75% chance of pointlessness. At least Rose was not going to remember this. He sighs. She’s not going to remember this right? He stops in his tracks, blood running cold, but the voice in his head reminds him he’s being paranoid.

It was the drink, but also, like one of the trolls talked about void shit? Blue spider troll, class BS, somebody inverted, void-y shit, Dave exhaled, there was definitely some forgetting around here.

Dave makes his way to his room, tugging open the door trying to decide if he wanted to sleep, make specifically fucking loud music, or fall into a bottomless **v o i d** himself. Instead he enters to Karkat playing video games on his alchemized TV.

“Your stupid four wheeled device game is fucking glitching again!” Karkat yells in his general direction, furiously mashing the buttons and flailing the controller around.

He’s actually really not surprised he let himself in, their broing had really grown, critical heights of broship, the bro-pire State Building, brofection.

No, but seriously a near two weeks of constant hanging and them tight, but it _did not_   make Dave feel any better to see him there, it’s hard enough having real life actual emotions, much less a witness.

Dave musters a mumbled reply, and then shuffles over to his sick Hella Jeff themed bed, he flops down on it.

He’s reminded he should kick Karkat out after a few frustrated yowls from the televisions direction, then he reminds himself he doesn't give a fuck. Karkats angry squawking at the game, and his utter failure as a gamer, are a nice distant distraction, like white noise.

Dave ends up drowsing in fits, slipping lightly into unconsciousness, when said troll drops down on him.

 

“Hey dickmunch, I was talking to you,” Dave looks up at him, Karkats tone says the regular ‘fuck you,’ but his face reveals some genuine concern. Dave is lost as what to do.

“Dude, just unplug it, and plug it back in,” he gives the kid a stern, if not a bit lackluster, eye roll over the tops of his shades, .

“Uh, and that’s how you fix glasses-wearing-idiots?” Karkat asks, hands on his hips like a mother hen clucking at him, Dave doesn't have the energy for this. “I called your name five times! Most of which were not actually your name by the way, but I thought repugnant junk-stain jizz gurgler might have got your attention.”

“Pardon me, here’s your commemorative ,‘fuck you,’” Dave flips him off and buries his head in the duvet.

It’s not nearly enough, and Karkat fidgets, playing with his sweater, “Are you...uh, how was your walk?”

Fuckin’ fricken, fracking on liberal land, he was onto him. He sits up and gestures like he’s an Italian in a fight with a restaurant manager,

“It was literally the best fucking thing, my legs are so stretched, lots of fresh meteor air, I got like ten health bars from that motherfucker,” Karkats a little taken back, “I highly recommend it,” Dave indicates the door, edging for Karkat to get the hint and get out. Though he doesn't directly tell him to go, cause you know.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“ _No_ , it should be self evident I don't want to talk about anything, ever,” Dave trails off grumbling about how cliche that question was.

“Oh my fucking Condescensions harem,” Karkat sits on the bed directly next to Dave, Daves eyebrows skyrocket, “I'm not going to fucking cull you. Spill the fart niblets bastard.”

Pushy.

“Never say those words again, and I will.”

“What?”

“Fart niblets. Or else only ever use it. One word, rest of your life. Starting now.”

Karkat runs a hand through his hair irritatedly, and looks at the ceiling, “some higher power help me, deliver me from the emotionally puke plugged and bleach blonde assholes that plague us-”

“Bleached blonde assholes?” Dave actually laughs out loud suddenly, it’s almost worth the permanent image engraved in his mind. It is funny until he catches Karkat smiling at him fondly. Ugh, pity, or condolences, or whatever.

Dave pushes on his shoulder, “oh, haha, get my guard down, knight of emotional ploys, it’s you.”

Karkat uses the momentum of the push to lie flat on Daves bed, staring up at the ceiling, he eyes Dave expectantly. Dave stubbornly stays seated,

“Come fucking down here,”

“I haven’t heard that in awhile,”

“urg!” Karkat grabs his sleeve and yanks, Dave reluctantly complies, and lies flat on his back next to Karkat, staring at the ceiling. It was boring, but easier than looking him in the face.

“No, feeling jams.”

“Mmm-hmm,”

“Seriously, dude,”

“got it, Dave.”

He used his name, Dave is uncomfortable, there is silence, silence imposed by Karkat, Karkat silence, Dave is super fucking uncomfortable.

“Okay well, see, I was kind of a huge dick,” Dave starts, Karkat nods,

“Granted, but let’s start from the beginning,”

“Okay one, wow. Two, alright, well: ‘I was born at a very young age,’”

“Actually, you were ecto-bioed, and two you fucking nookstain, share. Emotional garbage. The lot.” he says slowly in a patronizing tone, trying to whittle Dave down by insinuating he's a down right idiot.

“I have no emotions. ” Dave says flatly, pushing away Karkats intentions, “outside of cool and _super fucking_ _cool_.”

“I know. Burrowing in your sleep space and being a stubborn asshole is the 'coolest.' He pauses, "Luckily for you, I have enough "feelings" for the both of us, work with me here.” Karkat turns slightly changing the equilibrium of the bed, they each slide a little closer to the center. Dave wonders why Karkat was putting so much effort into him, he frowns, what he got out of meddling in on this was beyond him.

“Okay, alright, whatever, all it was was I was leaving our thing, and I ran into Rose, and there was another thing, well not so much a thing as a martini blasted disaster, and first…..”

Karkat interjects with a couple “uh-huhs,” and let’s Dave tell the story straight through, and by “straight,” he means stammering and groping his way like it was a gay feelings fiesta. Well that and how they end up snuggled arm to arm at the end. Gaaay.

“....well, and then I was like, ‘why you gotta be like this Rose?’ except less like that, and more like ‘look here I’m functional, and you're a selfish gin-busted broad’...and she was like….” Dave is completely not choked up, and there is no reason he pauses the story there.

“Why do you hang out with me?” Somehow slips out of his mouth quietly and without permission, because, ugh, emotions and crippling self doubt. Not this again.

He turns his head to find Karkats two luminescent yellow orb eyes staring him down, they're wide and aglow like harvest moons.

“I like you,” He says simply. “Why else?” he adds with an irritated bite to it. Dave doesn't know what to say.

Instead, Daves head falls, by chance and by the constructs of gravity he doesn't control, onto Karkats shoulder.

He falls asleep.

******

When he wakes up it’s been two hours and 27 minutes, still a Tuesday. He turns his head slightly, and see’s Karkat next to him, also still awake, his face is still and eyes attentively looking upward like he’s watching the stars, Daves heart speeds up absurdly fast.

He puts on his best high pitched girly voiced (irony), “whatcha’ thinking about, hun?”

Karkat jumps, startled, “you're awake! Jegus”

“Yeah. And you're still, uh, you stuck around?” Dave says

“So?” Karkat gets defensive, man even after a fucking feelings jam.

“I'm not mad, it’s just like, you stayed pretty still for two hours for being a 5’6 rage volcano.”

“5’6? What?” Dave doesn't explain the measurement system to him, he doesn't even understand the measurement system, he shrugs absently instead.

“It was nothing, really,” he looks somehow embarrassed, "you slept well.”

“Yeah, slept well, I mean, thanks,” he’s not exactly sure what he’s thanking him for, “I’m not sure if being a fuck up warrants snuggle feeling time or whatnot, but if it keeps the group alive.” Dave comments nonchalantly.

Karkat gives him a very solemn look, and tilts his head, “we've all fucked up at something.” He snorts, “especially literally everyone on this trip.”

“Getting older fucking sucks,” Dave concluded, “though I suppose however the fuck I’m turning out doesn't help.” There it is, the mawing hole of inner criticism come to consume him. He needs to invest in a journal, black clothes and some hair dye that really brings out his eyes.

“Jegus, we really aren't so fucking different,”

“What?”

He twitches, “I'm going to tell you a story Strider, and instead of letting anyone in this room languish in their own pity vomit it will be _uplifting_ , and _grossly sweet_.”

“What? What? WTF? Karkat Vantas knows what the fuck uplifting is, or what a smile might look like, the light has come everyone! No more tears,” Dave sits up and gestures at the heavens.

“Sit the fuck down and stare at the ceiling before we add another body to the pile,”

Dave laughs, messing with Karkat was worth all of his time.

“Now…” Karkat starts, and then stops, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, grasping.

“Um, man, you can go, I'm all ready to accept your emotions, buddy with the bro, diamond with my man, get this jam left with no dry eye in the house, and find troll platonic tru-”

“There was a sickness,”

“Oh shit,”

“Strider,”

“No I really mean oh shit, that sucks,”

“Everyone was getting it, and by everyone I mean like 1-2 sweeps old, whatever, got sick, it wouldn't have been a big deal, except my stupid mutant blood type, which was specifically designed to fuck me over two ways to New Pedigree Eve, couldn't go to a health injector, doctor, nurse drone, whatever since it involved a blood test and you know, fuck me as a troll in particular ,”

He pauses, Dave wonders if his little troll mind is calculating if this is too much sharing, Dave clears his throat, ready to prompt him on through shows of ‘not going to rip your throat open for weakness’,

“So there I am dying, complaining like wriggler, and lusus starts to carry me- it’s a really fucking long way okay, and all I do for the 12 hours straight is yell and violently whine, ‘cause everything hurt plus I’m the worlds biggest nook sniffing black hole of hate shit lo-”

Dave cramps his arm up uncomfortably to put a hand on his shoulder, stopping the tirade in its tracks, “granted. But keep going,”

He actually gives something like an annoyed half smile,

“right, okay Strider, longest shit journey of my life, next to this one, and I tried to carole my lusus the whole way through, I thought it would cull me or bury me in the lawn ring, so I ran away at the last moment, and got even more fucked up in the woods, my lusus eventually caught up and knocked my post-wriggler self out ”

Karkat paused, considering something,

“Okay?” This was a confidential story, and there was something to it, but Dave seriously did not know where this short jackhammer was going with it.

“I don't remember all of it after that, I got to some sort of doctor. I didn’t die, obviously,” he starts to mutter, “since paradox space was uniquely designating me to fuck up an entire universe,” he takes a moment to look bitter, “but look...Dave, what I'm saying is everyone throws each other under the proverbial wheeled transportation sometimes, and it’s shit.”

Dave waits for the part where he says something uplifting.

“Sooo...?”

“People are fucking barbarians Dave."

Dave looks at him dumbly,

"and it's going to hurt."

“That’s really constructive man, I'm going to go build a church around the profound Karkat words ‘people are terrible, and life is suffering;' going to become a magical girl and preach that shit at the optimistic heroine altor,”

“Fucker,”

“no seriously, I'm getting my skirt on pre-order right now,”

“I wasn't done,”

“Alright.” Dave is a little apprehensive, he wasn't sure how “real” he could get with his bro before whatever happens.

“Maybe Rose..” He searches for the words

“Tried to bury me under the lawn ring, ie was aggressively drunk towards my supportive ass?” Dave offers devoid of resentment or sarcasm of course.

He snorts, “maybe you were _both_ asses to each other, like I complained and my lusus knocked me out, but it gets better right? You make up, all that mutual fuckery doesn't matter, it all passes, because everything does, and plus that’s what we're working towards right?” He get’s quite for a moment great peace-master Karkat, “all being friends in the end, getting through this fire burnt hell game.”

Dave studies his face, a far off look on it, most likely thinking about all the shit the trolls went through, he looks… soft, Daves heart highfives itself repeatedly in an uncool palpitation (some experts would call it a “flutter”).

“Pfft, your life lesson is friendship?”

“You got something better?” he replies, unamused.

“One eighties, 1100 HD porn, all dogs go to heaven,”

“I was trying to comfort _you_ ,”

“I...yeah” He gets congested on the word “appreciate” since that is not in the regular ol’Strider family dictionary, “I’m good.” He goes for instead, facade, 10/10 worked so far, “aren't I always?”

He scoffs, “sure, ‘good’ curling up on your night surface and passing out, plus,”

“Plus?”

“Whimpering in your sleep. Crying. Honestly, never been so embarrassed for another sentient life form,”

“Are you fucking kidding me-”

“Joking” He exclaims, only, his hand is reaching out towards Daves face, stopping the verbal vomit, his thumb reaches for the corner of his eye, which had gotten moist somewhere between falling asleep and waking up to this exchange, he wipes it away and Dave leans in. Uncool, uncool, very uncool, alarms go off in his head like church bells.

But then they both lean in and a soft kiss is traded between them anyway.

Dave laughs, “are we doing this again?” he says removing his shades.

“yes?” Karkat answers questioningly.

“Hell fucking yes.”

They kiss again, a little more forcefully, trying to avoid clashing your noses or forming emotional connections. Too late, oops.

Dave’s hands are already all over him, up and down his back and hips, because god it’s been two weeks, and lord he began to doubt it was ever going to happen again. And maybe it won’t.

The thought provokes something feral in him and he descends on Karkat, kissing harder, bruising, pushing down further, Karkat makes a small “ngh” noise in the back of his throat.

“Pretty eager there,” he breathes out, taunting him slightly and panting when they part.

“I've been building up.”

“Ttch, I can help you build up,” Karkat gets out basically under his breath.

Dave raises an eyebrow, sitting up to lean on his forearms,

“Holy fucking moly Batman, is Karkat Vantas actually flirting with me?” He asserts in mock surprise.

“No! Yes. Fucking kiss me you idiot.”

He complies, Karkats arms wrap around his neck, there legs get tangled in each other and the duvet, and nobody really cares.

Karkat is a more determined, precise, than last time. He moves systematically from Daves mouth, nipping his way to Dave earlobe until his sharp teeth are lightly tugging on it, making Dave wriggler and exhale breathy sighs. He works on the earlobe until just breathing on it makes it light up his spine with tingling. Dave squirms uncomfortably, his pants already too tight, Goddamn ears shouldn't be this sensitive.

Karkat moves down to his neck, creating the same nipping and licking motion, mechanical, in clockwise rotation.

Dave tries to grind down on him, but Karkat entwined his hand into his hair and pulled on it every time Dave tried to build up a higher speed.

Dave lets out a groan of frustration when Karkat starts on his adam’s apple.

“Mrrg. _Mrrg_ ,”

“It’s called foreplay,” Karkat finally relinquishes, “it will make the end results a thousand times better.”

“Have you been studying up on this or...?”

“If you mean my entire fucking life, than yes. Though I did take the time out to see how humans do it, it was disgusting, but also, heads up, I’m going to blow your fucking human mind.”

“Right, okay,” Dave expresses his best unconvinced-tone but his chest bubbles up with what could only be described as ‘excitement,’ and ‘a hard on.’

“Besides slower is better.” He concludes somewhat smugly, the little sex maniac.

“I mean, fine.”  
“Except ...” He pauses looking them both up and down, Dave can feel the heat radiating off him.

“You want to take your goddam sweater off don’t you?” Karkat looks completely relieved.

“That part might be good, yes, take your clothes off.” It’s more of a demand than Dave used to, but this is more sex than he’s used to as well. He struggles out of his shirt as swift as a coursing river, and kicks off his pants with the force of a great typhoon, until he’s down to his boxers, and ready to make a man out of Karkat.

He turns to Karkat lifting up his shirt, entire chest and rib cage exposed. Dave pokes at the weird red tissue layering his sides, Karkat lets out something between a bark and a laugh in response.

“Dude, were these what made you laugh so much the first time?”

“Grub scars. Nope, nuh.” He breaks off into muffled laughs again.

Dave continues to prod, eliciting a myriad of laughter, still weird to hear from the guy but not unwelcome,

“You're such a fucking dick,”   
“it’s like reliving the birth of our first sexual tension in that common room,”

“that was not the start, I'll draw you a timeline of when you first started to piss me off, hint: always,”

“pfft, I’d like to see you try and draw anything,”

There usual bickering is interrupted by similar foolishness when Dave tickles the troll into the covers, and there rolling around like it’s day care or they're dogs discovering a pile of leaves.

“ahaha, too much, I'm crying, wait,” Karkat finally acts and pushes him off, “will you knock it off?” He asks, though the ghost of smile still possesses his face.

The picture of innocence descends over Daves face, placing his hands up “I will. No more.”

He looks unconvinced, eyes narrowed towards his direction, but ends up pulling up his shirt to take it off again anyways. Dave is ready. He dives in for the kill, but Karkat is quick, and this time takes the fabric and pulls it over Daves head.

The light goes out, and Dave is pressed against Karkats chest, trapped in the guys stupid heavy black sweater.

“Aww, dude”

“That’s what you get!” He projects, vindicated.

Karkat himself pops his head down through the hole a second later, and they are surprisingly nose to nose in the dark of the fabric. They stare at each other in the eyes momentarily, the only sound being their mutual breathing, mood shifting dramatically to slow and unmoving, time at a standstill.

They kiss lightly, if not sweetly in the dark of the canopy of fabric. It’s sort of romantic, if you're into that sort of thing.

They part, then continue the faint kiss another moment in the dark, their breathing in tune with each other, the only noise in world it seemed.

It _is_ hella romantic. Also terribly uncomfortable as Karkat’s shoulders are caught at the top of the the fabric and hunched in awkward directions from two people inhabiting the thing.

“Let me help with that.” Dave offers genially, and together they pop the sucker off Karkats frame, easier than it would seem, but Dave suspected he was struggling with it ‘cause of nerves or what not- which Dave totally eased with the power of laughter (and being obnoxious): Dave Strider, sextraordinaire.

Karkat looks up at him through his lashes, a short affectionate smile gracing his normally grim expression. Dave is half way standing on the bed and kneeling on it when Karkat crawls up to him waist high, Dave watches in interest.

He leans forward and kisses Daves abdomen, and all of Daves nerves stand on end, Karkat places his hands firmly on the others hips, and Dave is feeling this, really feeling this.

Karkat kisses his way down the fellow knights happy trail until he reaches his boxers, Karkat unexpectedly goes right for it and licks the side of Dave’s half-mast downtown admiral, Dave makes what can only be described as a squeak.

“yes, yes, and furthermoreyes, no teeth tho, but still have I told you how great, and uhgum, great,” Dave is trying to convey his best, that yes, this is great. (If not the greatest.)

Karkat smirks up at him, coy and in control, before moving on to mouthing Dave through his boxers. His breath hitches, the warmth and light licking overwhelming him, and the piece of cloth making the whole ordeal frustratingly hot and not enough in all the right ways.

Dave buries his hand in Karkats thick hair, trying to be encouraging, Karkat mouths first the base of his cock then works his way left (you could say Dave is a left leaner) up the shaft, and pausing maddeningly before the head.

When he engulfs the sensitive tip of his dick through the fabric Dave audibly gasps, shivering, and fisting his hand in Karkats hair.

He was going to have to thank troll Jesus on his hands and knees tonight for this.

Daves grey boxers are soon soggy with troll spit and his own pre-cum as Karkat nurses the shaft a little, always briefly coming back to the head to make Dave cry out.

It’s nauseatingly hot and seeing Karkat on his knees sucking him off makes Dave a believer.

However, Karkat soon gives the tip of Daves member three more resolute licks, sucking delicately at the head before backing off.

Dave makes incoherent protest noises like the horny teenager he is, and Karkat returns with a disapproving look, crossing his arms “do you want to cum in your human undershorts?”

Dave mumbles, but he’s not an ungrateful twat that presses things, so he doesn't press it.

Dave watches the calculating look on Karkats face, he obviously has had this all planned out, but since Dave is a giver (see: not ungrateful twat) he decides to let Karkat feel it too.

Taking him by surprise, Dave grabs his shoulders and pins Karkat to the bed.

“Do you want me to eat you out?” Dave asks with perhaps less tact than could be. “Or suck you off? Man, I am so down, let me, I'll-” He’ll do anything. He’d also love some water, but he pushes that thought away, filing it under “not sexy,” and “not the time.”

But Karkat squawks in surprise, a crimson blush rising in his cheeks with each question.

“Um, I”

“Fucking both?”

“Dave, well,”

“What is it?”

Karkat clears his throat, “can I just say that if one party is too forward it can compromise the red or black feelings of spuriousness,” He sounds like he’s reading a text book.

“Oh man,” he chuckles lowly, “you sound like your soul-double trying to explain sex to a triggered walrus.”

That gets his proverbial goat, Karkat gets pissy and his cheeks tint red even further at the mention of Kankri, “just because I want to do things fucking correctly doesn't mean I give think pan numbing speeches on asinine rules of ‘society’ and being sensit-” Dave taps their foreheads together playfully,

“sssshhhh. Just. Kidding.” he says with a half smile, Karkat exhales, shoulders descending uneasily,

“it’s not-”

“ssh,” he shoosh paps him, which he immediately feels guilty about cause he can tell Karkats brain going into flip flops on the quadrants front.

Luckily, what he’s about to do is definitely not pale.

“Just tell me what feels good,” he whispers into the trolls ear. The other quivers in response, a flush creeping up his neck-  not from anger this time.

Dave begins massaging the others spine and strange red scars, eliciting shallow moans this time instead of laughter as he presses in harder with the pads of his fingers.

He bites Karkats shoulder, trying to work in a deep hickey on the gray flesh. While he might not have the same precision of Karkats systematic mouth maneuvers, he has what he likes to call “natural talent,” and “just going with it.”

It seems to work as Karkat wriggles and shifts flusteredly. Dave moves his mouth this time back onto the others, leaning in for a deep, intrusive kiss, his tongue massaging the other boys and reaching close to what he assumes is the back of his throat.

Karkat gives in, melting into Daves clutch and letting himself be lowered down flat onto the bed. Dave takes the opportunity to wonder his hand down to Karkats pants (which he was unfortunately still wearing), undoing the first button and brushing his hand up against the wet contents within.

And let’s just say Dave wasn't the only one with soggy boxers, as he reaches his hand slowly onto the twitching member.

Dave is, to his own credit, completely chill about the alien tentacle-junk this time and hones in on it decisively. Karkat lets out a full blown euphoric gasp when Dave traces his index finger over the full length of Karkats bulb from tip to base.

His fingernails dug into Dave’s shoulder painfully, and Dave nobly shuts up about it, grimacing to himself in private.

“pants, now,” Karkat gets out, pawing at his own garments desperately. Dave should help… but Dave should also maybe get something the fuck to drink.

“uh, mind if I just,” he points at a chest close to them.

Karkat looks at him dimly, Dave gets up anyway and leaves the guy to peel off his own pants from his legs while suppressing his tenta-boner.

Dave wanders over to his chest, producing three AJ’s and one water bottle. The first sip is like golden nectar, heaven sent bottled cosmic rain, granted AJ always tasted like that and this was just heightened by some real thirst fuckery.

He stumbles back to Karkat, he’s surprised to find the other boy sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread and a blanket dipping ever so much over his nethers.

“Oh my, fucking yes, you have water.”

Dave hands him the water, still contemplating the position, one hand stroking his chin, a wire smile spreads across his lips,

“You want me to eat you the fuck out then?”

Karkat chokes on the water, “umph, Strider.”

“You only had to say so dude.”

“Do you have to”

Dave was getting pretty happy to tease Karkat into blushing like this.

“Well go on, finish your water,” Dave encourages him. He starts to sip again, all while eying him suspiciously,

“so I can start to eat you the fuck out!”

He chokes again, and coughing up the water.

“errr,”

“Kidding, Kidding,” Dave says raising his hands, “just whenever you're ready.” Karkat covers his flushing face with his hands, one hand aggressively flipping him off and then one hand placing the water down.

Dave smoothly slides up next to him, smoothly. But Karkat turns his head to scowl at him, Dave pops his eyebrow up, wondering if “sorry” was something he should actually say for this development.

“Uh…?”

“Well” Karkat says expectantly, “are you actually all talk Strider?” He gives Dave a shit eating smirk and opens knees ever so much. Provocative bastard.

It was Dave's turn to be slammed dunked into the red zone, his face flaring up like drops of blood spreading across paper. They were going to spend their whole relationship fucking with each other weren't they?

Dave fumbles down to his knees anyway, no way was he going to be one upped and back down, hell nah. He gulps however, glimpsing the caverns of something red and ridged. A prick was one thing, but Dave definitely wasn't equipped with anything resembling this. And, fuck. It hits him all at once, he’s never done this before- he swallows hard.

“hey,” Karkat’s voice floats down, soothingly toned down to a dull roar in Karkat terms, “it’s okay if you want to go back to just,” he hesitates for the next word.

Dave lunges up, not the sexiest of sex movements, but lunges for Karkats face nonetheless, pushing their lips together in what could only technically qualify as a kiss. He moves their faces, so it is a better position, it’s a strange and building kiss, and Dave breaks it shortly after, moving downward on the other boy. He presses one long wet kiss into his chest and then trails his mouth to the others crotch. He gives the schlong a decisive lick, slow and even, before moving towards the final destination.

“Dave.”

Dave moves in, reminding himself to go slow- and hoping Karkat will at least signify some how what feels good, as he suggested (not without purpose). He nips first at the other boys inner thigh, a small hick making its way out of Karkats mouth. He bites harder a little higher up, and then again slightly higher, higher, up until he can feel the heat of Karkats "lower lips" on his cheek.

He eyes the opening up close, it is slick, folded, and… complex looking. It’s like abstract art, and makes Dave harder than he'd like to admit.

Dave staring at his alien snatch seemed to turn Karkat on as the other shutters noticeably and bites on his cheek, Dave peers up at him.

Ah, that was cute, he liked being looked at. Dave can only hesitate for so long though.

It was time to be a man:

The moment of truth y’all.

He shuts his eyes and licks the glistening slit, tasting the musk pheromones and wetness. It gets an instant reaction, Karkat letting out a slow moan pleasure, tilting his head heavenwards.

“Dave.”

Hearing his own name doled out in a low voice does it for him, he moved his tongue across the folds and flirting around the round central hole.

It tasted musky, dark and distinctly alien, the closest thing he could think of it resembling being a mix of nutmeg and like, treebark. Not bad but very strange, like weird stuff Dave shoved in his mouth at four strange. It was also distinctly hot, matching Karkats heated body temperature, and a consistency reminded him of when he put Bro’s hair gel in his mouth as a kid. Only it wasn’t toxic. Dave suddenly hoped it wasn't toxic.

It was too late now anyway as he laps up another string of red lube stuff, taking it as a good sign Karkat seems to be getting wetter, Dave starts to make shapes in the others flesh closer to the puckered hole. (Puckered is a horrible word, but the thing was pucked).

Karkats breathing is coming out in huffy gasps.

Dave darts his tongue experimentally into the opening, circling the pulsing flesh and brushing his teeth ever so slightly across the surrounding red slick grooves.

Karkat moves his hand down, burying his fingers in Daves hair as he works on him, and the other one lazily stroking himself. Dave has flashbacks of dudes doing the hand-hair thing to chicks in porn, but he ignores the implications.

Dave keeps at it, sinking his tongue deeper into the warmth of the opening, reminding himself to breath now and then as the liquid continues to flow out.

He puts his own hand on his dick, stroking in time to Karkats small noises escaping his throat as Dave fucks him with his mouth.

Karkats whimpers start to increase along with the strings of breathless profanities (most involving “Fuck,” and “Dave”- to his gratification.)

And God, he’s super into this. Highlight of teen life. Teen life complete. Of course, he also hopes the kid comes soon because where Daves tongue was concerned there was only two words: numb and tired. His mouth muscles were going to be fucking RIPPED is what he’s saying, but only if he didn't pass out after the last 13 minutes and 45 seconds of oral.

“Hands.” Karkat interjects.

Dave stops and glances up to him questioningly.

“Use your hands.” He grits out from between his teeth, “I'm so fucking close.”

Dave feels somewhat dumb having forgot this wasn't soccer and he could use his hands,

“Right-oh, captain my captain,” he gives the fellow knight an ironic solute before getting back to work. He can almost hear the “this idiot” look on Karkats face.

He reluctantly takes his hand off himself and hesitantly strokes the outer membrane of the others sex. The sexbrane. It’s surprisingly soft, silky, what he assumed a female-human-girl vag would feel like, (though 15% more rubbery).

He strokes the outer folds, Karkat shivering as his probing fingertips press into him.

Dave applies his mouth to the area as an added bonus, using his fingers in tandem to tease Karkats inner thigh and pussy folds, Karkat responds by twitching and panting from the stimulation.

Dave bears the loss of feeling in his mouth for the growing sensation of Karkats sexual frustration, his hand fisting into Daves hair and red-cavern clenching around nothing.

“Can you…” He huffs out with gravel and mulch in the tone, “get on with it?”

It was almost a growl and it vibrates right down to Daves spine to his own junk.

He stops messing around and places his fingers deeper into the hole, circling it shallowly until finally pushing in, Karkat cry’s out in a bright colorful language, Dave hesitates,

“Go on.” He insists through a shaking voice.

Dave works a second finger in slowly while Karkat huffs through his nose like a bull in heat,

“Find.” He tries to articulate, “shame. Globe.s. Globes. ‘Kay?”

“What?” Dave asks, removing his mouth away from around the hole.

“Shame globe, deeper. D-ee-per”

Dave considers teasing him for fucking alien language shenanigans (shame globes, is that in Australia?) but thinks better of it. He builds up a rhythm again, pushing his fingers in and out, deeper, probing inwards for some sort of globes.

There are two textures inside: alternating strips of a harder granite like material, slim and narrow, and wider soft silken strips. So super alien is what he’s saying. Dave is figuring out how the silk strips are def more sensitive when he runs into the edge of a lump.

Karkat cries out in a way that is down right pornagraphic. Dave gets the hint and dives his fingers in between two mounds of soft material, separating the two lumps while using his mouth to nip the outer vag. The continued pressure and insistent forcing apart of the sphere seems to do the trick, and Karkat is soon reaching what Dave assumes is a climax.

He gives out a silent gasp and scream, pushing on Dave's shoulder until the other is away from him and upright. And then starts vibrating.

Dave watches as Karkat is visibly vibrating, shivering from head to toe like a moms "special play toy" that goes off when you accidently kick the box under her bed.

Karkat shakes for around a minute, holding onto Daves shoulders all the while, and eyes screwed shut in, uh, vibrating ecstasy?

He opens his eyes a slit, and then somehow removes a bucket from his sylladex. Dave is impressed by the effort.

He stands up, placing the bucket in between his legs, and pulling up Dave with him. He opens his eyes and then engulfs Dave in a searing kiss, forcing their mouths together in a bruising, consuming, open mouth makeout.

Dave can feel the vibrations through his teeth as Karkat fully climaxes and spills his “genetic material” into the bucket below. The burning intensity of the other clinging to him, pressing into him as he orgasms, almost sends Dave over the edge himself.

However, before Dave can wrench his shoulders back to himself and give himself a final stroke or two, Karkat finishes and collapses onto the bed, dragging the blonde lazily down with him.

He lies crucifix style on top of the blankets, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Dave situates himself against his side, letting him have some afterglow closeness. It is the most peaceful he has ever seen Karkats face outside of being asleep.

“Good?” He finally asks approvingly, feeling goddamned pleased with himself.

Karkat nods his head ever so slightly, curling up from his splayed position right up against Dave's chest. It was sort of adorable in the way he buries his face in Dave's pects, not that either of them would admit that.

Dave gives him exactly two and half minutes of afterglow, and then starts to shift out from under him, dudes cute, but Dave needed to rub one out 15 minutes ago and the fellow knights dozing directly on his wanking arm. Dave is neither as ambidextrous as he would like to be, or in a comfortable enough position for some quality “me time,” (which he hella deserved).

He incrementally shifts away from him, careful, but pretty certain the dudes out cold, Dave sure as hell would be after that. He’s almost free enough to revive his flagging erection and get this over party on, when Karkat blinks his eyes back open.

“What is it?” he asks in classic-Karkat-flavor annoyed.

“Gotta take care of little Dave, dude.” Dave replies bluntly.

Karkat stares at him in buffledement until Dave purposefully points down to his dick with his free hand. Karkats eyes go wide, like two yellow orbs of weak sunlight,

“why didn’t you tell me you asshole!?” He exclaims sitting up immediately.

“Man, I think we were both a little busy, and you like came so fucking hard, I thought you would vibrate the fuck out of the atmosphere,” he pauses, “horrorterrorsphere.”

“Yeah! I know” Karkat exclaims, somehow bouncing back to ulcer-levels of stress, even after a Strider rocked his world, “do you want like a mouth thing, or hand stroking?” he asks manically.

Dave considers the proposition, “I mean, I can handle this man, it’s what I've trained for” he replies, eyeing Karkats sharp shark teeth filling his head. And if he was going to get a hand job, he might as well have an experienced pilot in the drivers seat.

“I can't let you self pail!” He replies resolutely, if not fucking loudly.

“yeah, and another thing, about pails, were you just possessed by the ghost of washing machines-past or something, do trolls just fucking become set on ‘tremble’-cum now and then.”

Karkat stares back in confusion.

“You didn't do that last time did you?”

“This was from my nook this time,” he tries to explain, “and this time was… better as well.”

“Better?” Dave chirps in mock-offended motion.

“You know what I mean. Whatever, xeno-fucking biology lesson, they are different, blah, blah, not my bulge.” He says pointing down to his own trouser snake. Dave stares at it as it lazily wriggles,

“Are you still hard too then?” Aliens, man.

“Sort of, sort of. Is...is that what you’d like?” He asks probingly.

Dave flushes just imagining it, “no, yep, I mean, no. Maybe.” Dave has flashbacks of his ventures to find his own G-spot in the shower, if he hadn't fantasized someone else taking over excavating his interiors he’d be lying. Did Striders bottom though? Fuck, he didn't know.

Karkat smirks across from him, “just tells me what feels good.”

Dave frowns at having his own words thrown back at him.

He stops frowning when they start kissing again, delicately, if not carefully to not actually mangle each others mouths by the end of the night. God it had been a long night, it was _going to be_ a long night.

Dave starts getting excited again despite the layer of sweat, spit and bodily fluid coating his body already along with the overwhelming scent of musk and sex which straddles the line between sexy and gross.

Karkat lays him on his back, coming together with much less fever and hormone fueled humping this time, they kissed and touched at a slower almost, ug, intimate pace. But after all the past shit, maybe they deserved it.

Someone had to get past the wall of bullshit and rage that they respectively put up.

Karkat seems to be doing well, stroking Daves chest, and giving light touches to his empire-state-building in equal measures, Dave feels a wave of gratitude he’s not just tugging himself actually. This is better, much better, he thinks to himself as Karkat grabs at his hair and sucks one man-nip. He lets out a small gasp and string of prayers out his mouth when Karkat tugs on the sensitive flesh harshly, and then with his other hand suddenly dig into the meat of Dave's ass. God, the kid was mechanical, but dedicated.

They make out for a good two more minutes, Karkat purposefully kneading his hand into Dave's backside, the brush of claws lays somewhere between ow and super ow (as in really hot).

Dave is feeling pretty pleasantly turned on, and uh, ready, when Karkat's suddenly goes stricken, jaw slack and eyes wide, one hand hovering over Dave's hips.

“I didn't consider this..” he mumbles under his breath, eyes a little wild, darting around.

“What man?” Dave asks impatiently. He is not feeling this waiting thing anymore.

“Why, ugh, fuck, I forgot,” he considers Dave like a math problem he’s trying to discern, a math problem he’s _not doing_.

“We can just do like something else, like the first time?” Dave offers if Karkat is backing out or having a some sort of breakdown.

“I watched so much human bullshit for this!”

“What?”

“Human mammal mating video’s Dave. I even alchemized claw clippers” Karkat explicates.

“Porn. You watched upsetting porn, yeah, that will happen, the key is to block it out, or yank the horn harder until the memory fades,” Dave speaks from experience.

“There _is_ a lot of horn music that plays, usually.” He comments thoughtfully.

“You're worried there’s no porn music?” Dave says with potent dryness, like it’s the nairobi dessert up in here.

“No!” Karkat runs his hands through his hair, “it’s just…” He frowns deeply, and then sighs.

“I can't do the preparation like in the video’s. I’ll skewer your weak human flesh on my claws immediately.”

Dave cringes as he imagines it, “yes, no, let’s not rip Dave up.”

Karkat cries out very weakly in distress, “okay, alright,” Karkats eyes look searchingly around.

Dave is a little flattered the guys is so into wanting to make this go right, he watched fucking human porn for some shot at this fine stock market. Nice.

He watches Vantas panic for a second more, “alright, no, you see it’s fine, I can do that part.”

“No self pailing!”

“No, see just the prep.”

“just the prep?” He asks apprehensively.

“Yeah man, it’s not like I could do the rest of it on my own.”

Karkat nods slightly, “do you want the...?”

Dave’s eyebrows raise, seeing Karkat knows the actual parts of this, “uh, dresser? Also water, AJ, liquid in my throat.”

“More?” Karkat replies slyly,

“You know what I mean. Not just troll crotch juice.”

He gets a classic eye roll at that.

Karkat searches around in the dresser again, and then brings back a light grey bottle and another three bottles of water. Sweet neptunes dick be praised.

They each choke down a water in silence. Sex was weird in that way, as in disorganized, tiring, dehydrating and probably in Daves top five favorite life experiences. After the weird noises, numbness, and bodily fluids, he saw the appeal is what he was saying.

Karkat throws his plastic bottle away behind him, and hands Dave the lube (FOR MEN. No really it says that across the side, and Rose must never see this.)

Dave opens it, most his exploration was in the shower so he hadn't actually touched the stuff much. He globs some on his hand, Karkat touches it curiously, rubbing it between his hands,

“you do know that trolls make this naturally? You do know that?”

“yeah, yeah” it does strike Dave this was going to be very different than with any human dude, which sounds less intimidating actually? It was literally a slime cannon, so, uh, no tearing, whatever. “Better safe than sorry.”

Dave lies back down on his back, he'd gone basically to half mast during the intermission, but assumed this was still on as he began to touch himself again. He closes his eyes and starts to think sexy thoughts, which wasn't that hard considering, and his prick was basically a champ and should be entered into competitions for first of course beauty and then as a springboard, because it was god damn was it fully up in record time. Hussain Bolt it.

From there he moves his hand onward, slathering it in lube and circling a finger around his own opening. It’s sort of really embarrassing, like taking off his shades, or someone fucking watching him have real life emotions. He keeps his eyes closed.

Dave works into himself very slowly, no tearing, one finger finally dipping inwards, feeling inside his inner walls and stretching the muscles and skin.

He makes a small noise when he goes deeper. He hopes Karkat did not notice, because shits embarrassing. He’s about to add a second lube covered finger when he glances out from under his closed lashes to see a very distressed Karkat.

The Knight of Blood is concentrating on Dave touching himself with very serious attention. His face itself flushed with heat, a sharp tooth working it’s way into his lower lip as one hand touches himself guiltily.

It hit Dave what kind of performance this was.

He somehow slows down further, and starts rotating his hips to reveal more. He hears a distant response of a “meep” and Dave grins.

Dave puts on a small show as he finally works two fingers completely in, stretching it comfortably loose and adding a third finger to be safe. Karkat is hot and bothered, and ready to go at this point, concentrating on how Dave moves every little part of him, as well as is all sorts of patient.

Luckily for him, Dave is especially also ready, and raring to go, being examined by hooded eyes appreciating the view didn't exactly make him less horny, as in not at all, and he needed this _now_.

“Karkat...” He softly says in a way far less cool than he intended, he clears his throat, “Karkat.”

Karkat bears down, pressing lips to his forehead, strangely paternal, then aligning himself atop the other boy. He first moves Dave's legs up to shoulders, bending him in ways he really hadn't considered he'd be bent until now.

“Are you ready?” He asks, making Dave feel slightly fluttery inside.

“This is the gayest thing I have ever done.”

“Oh bulge sniffing tripod. Yes, you are homosexual-like, and this is, accordingly, not what John would do.”

“Halfway Homo, honestly.”

“Half way.” He replies, and goes down to kiss Dave again, probably to stop him from ranting off or saying anything more distracting.

“I’m ready. Bombs away, all in, go for it, gooaal” God he could be obnoxious, but Karkat goes ahead anyway, aligning their bodies together, and Dave spreading himself as Karkat slowly pushes in.

He gasps, throwing his head back at first contact. It’s warm, very alive, and so close. Close as in someone was inside of him, as in someone was breathing on him, as in someone was seeing him shiver and cough up obscenities.

“keepgoing, I yes, I am goo, fuck alright,”

The tip of Karkats tentadick is expectedly thin and Dave just experiences the wriggling sensation, touch all parts of him as it probes along the insides, coating it with even more, heavier lube.

The rest of the “bulge,” just gets bigger from there, an unrelenting push and sensation of being filled overwhelms him. Dave squirms restlessly under the intrusion, under the strange pleasure filling his abdomen.

Karkat strokes his hair, his sides, all of him, and Dave would be more embarrassed if he wasn't busy being turned on.

“Shit, yea, aight, we are, ugh, thrusters go.”

Dave is feeling like he’s at his limit, entrance stretched, alive movement of the bulge unceasingly oscillates within. Warm, frustrating, this was it, he was ready to die completed.

“Uh,ohn,m” words are some what lost for him.

Dave opens his eyes, to examine Karkat, a look of pure engrossment encompassing his face. He looks up to meet Daves gaze, a red strand of awareness and closeness, if not unsaid words, stretches between them, peaceful in its simplicity of sex... and  _bromance_.

“Are you ready?” Karkat asks softly while their eyes meet, ugh.

“yeah,” Dave stammers out.

Karkat starts thrusting shallowly, Dave got that trolls didn't traditionally thrust, but Karkat definitely had a plan, eyes screwed shut himself now as he concentrates. The bulge starts moving first 30% faster, more skillful, with purpose. Dave groans around the increasing pressure of it pushing him downward into the bed and absorbing all his senses until it’s just him, the bed and overwhelming stimulation.

Karkat descends once more, kissing him several times, breathing into his collarbone as he folds him in two.

The fireworks really go off when Karkats dick finds his prostate, he brushed it before, but when Karkat recognized Daves shallow moan as an affirmation he hones in.

The slippery, rough pressure of the bulge bares down on the small knob, ruthlessly hounding it, curling in on the spot and then rubbing against it purposefully. Karkat had done his homework.

He was also visibly concentrating on controlling his tenta-dicks movements, and Dave is overwhelmed either way, and can feel that he is not much longer for this world.

The merciless press on the small ball of nerves sends a shiver up his spine every single time, an seemingly endless wave of pinpricks of sensation alighting most of him (okay, some of him, but the important parts).

Finally, Karkat actually grasps Daves erection and starts pumping it (the best he knows how) in time to the curling around the sweet spot. That is Daves complete limit, and it takes two strokes to make him start seeing stars.

The orgasm cleaves through his body, leaving his corporeal body behind and launching him into red empty space filled with white bursts of light, stars, and Lenin (seeing red). Part way through Karkat seems to try and pull out, Dave instinctively grabs his hips to stay.

The final wave of release overwhelms him and for a second Dave loses track of time and self- and it’s was pretty fucking epic is the short and dirty of it.

Some unknown amount of time later, Dave comes back to his senses. He feels loose, and boneless, like he could float for days. The afterglow was fucking fantastic because honestly, Dave technically became an atheist when he found out the universe was a giant frog, but for real _oh my God_. Sweet Lord.

“That was good.” Dave finally articulates from his sleepy state, voicing sincere appreciation in less words than not.

“Uh, yes. Very good. Let’s, uh, keep that in mind.” Karkat says hesitantly.

Dave is slightly suspicious, but in the most casual stoner I’m-high-from-literal life sort of way. He shifts slightly, and then felt liquid slosh within him. Oh Jeez. Oh man.

“Again?” He says in the most irritated fashion he could muster for the moment.

“You held onto my hips!” Karkat exclaims defensively.

“Seriously dude?” He wonders aloud, “If I get some sort of alien pregnant I swear to fucking God I will get Terezi to sue you for every cent you have. Like some sort of giant trial of the century with me weeping on the podium for my grotesque space spawn, gettin my poor mutant baby hella child support,” Dave could go on.

“What.”

“One sec. I’ve got to take care of this _alien enema_.” Dave gets up, the liquid moving around inside him. And by liquid he meant troll jizz. For real. This could only happen to him.

He waddles over to the bathroom, fingers in his ass for the second time tonight, he makes a mental note to force Karkat to watch Alien with him some time, and then reenact the alien-burst out of the chest thing later. Scare the shit out of him. Revenge. Perfect.

Dave washes up in his shower, which is surprisingly easy because it’s not like he was wearing clothes and had a big agenda outside of “cleanse my asshole.”

Getting it out was strange and he thoroughly repressed the memory, repressed with the exception of storing it for jacking off to the idea, memory, of Karkat cumming in him later.

He makes it back to his bed somehow, where Karkat is perched on the bed like an owl, eyes wide and concerned.

“Dave, twice, this is shit, I'm so sorr-” Dave cuts him off, hand waving the whole thing.

“Let’s just go to sleep loser.” He huffs, climbing into his bed weakly. Karkat stares at him in perplexion, hands clutched together. Dave pats the side of the bed next to him, the guy literally lights up like a troll Christmas decoration. So no Christmas. Or decoration. Probably like a bonfire of the unworthy or something. Yeah.

Karkat stops being a pussy and crawls into the sheets next to him, the bed is small, so they get close, but it’s not like that was a new theme for the night.

Karkat grumbles about this not being a pile or pod-thing, Dave tells him to shut it and they arrange their limbs together sleepily. Karkat doesn't brain him on his horn somehow and they fall asleep in the others arms. It was nice, it was romantic, if you're into that sort of thing.

Moral of the story: Dave got laid. Nice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter it seems! I intended this to be a sort of could-insert-into-canon piece so the plot was always going to be pretty flimsy, I may do an epilogue for this one- but if I don't I'm sure to do other DaveKat pieces to say the least!  
> Thank you so much for reading and leaving kudos.
> 
> Hey, you can also follow my fandom blog at http://insomniac-arrest.tumblr.com/ for more quality content (amiright?) with Homestuck and other such stuff.


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